Coen’s film knows when to pay homage and when to move to its own rhythm.
Christopher Nolan’s film willfully and startlingly dispenses with the plodding routines of the average biopic.
Air Review: Ben Affleck’s Poignant Portrait of Nike Aging into Its Michael Jordan Era
At its deepest level, Air is a film about mortality.
Ridley Scott’s medieval saga insightfully revels in the complexities of its competing storylines.
Stillwater gives itself over to drastic plot twists that derail what was already a film over-stuffed with narrative incident and ideas.
James Mangold’s film mostly plays to nostalgic reveries of the auto industry’s golden age.
Even Unsane’s most ridiculous moments coast on the sheer energy of Steven Soderbergh’s aesthetic gamesmanship.
Everyone in George Clooney’s film is a bastard, worthy of being shot, stabbed, blown up, or poisoned with lye.
Payne’s defenders might call his often acidic touch Swiftian, though it comes off more toothlessly noncommittal.
Suburbicon sees a bunch of candidly left-leaning movie stars doing their best to out-awful each other.
This is an often beautiful film, unmistakably the work of a great director but also a clearly compromised one.
Where Paul Greengrass’s action sequences were once visceral and intentionally unpleasant, now they just titillate.
Leonardo DiCaprio will win an Oscar because “being right” is the modus operandi of the average pundit’s investment in any given year’s Oscar race.
The film goes in for the idea of texture, tics, and human behavior, but there’s no conviction, and no real push for eccentricity.
Christopher Nolan’s goal seems to be to take the humor and wildness out of imagination, to see invention in rigidly practical and scientific terms.
The film rehashes the same few superficial humanist/socialist platitudes over and over again, with such reliability as to nurture our complacency.
George Clooney’s film boils a big, messy maelstrom of theft and uncertainty down to a digestible, faintly appetizing mush.
Neill Blomkamp strides closer to the muscular, subversive genre terrain of Carpenter and Verhoeven.
Behind the Candelabra is powerful, funny, and emotionally rigorous, and also serves as an uncommonly heartfelt Dear John letter.
Promised Land evinces a pleasing but self-consciously torpid sense of the everyday.